Ghost stories come to life on Pulp Mill Bridge

Author: Rachel Durfee

The setting is perfect: a quaint village in rural New England, where cows outnumber people and citizens smile and wave as they pass each other on Main Street. Idyllic in every way, time seems not to have interrupted life in this small town, where the dirty, exhaust-choked smells of the city are nowhere to be found, and instead the strong scent of manure perfumes the air. The night is characterized by its silence, the only light that of the stars and the occasional full moon. Farmhouses are spaced so far apart, no one would ever hear you scream…

This is the scene ghost stories are made of, so it is a wonder Middlebury does not have volume upon volume of its own ghoulish tales to be whispered clandestinely from ear to ear in the dark. There is, however, a growing rumor around campus that may send Middlebury into the ranks of Edgar Allan Poe, or even the next volume of "Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark."

The story takes us to Pulp Mill Bridge, the covered wooden bridge that runs over Otter Creek and the halfway point on a run popular among college students. It is located east of campus on Weybridge Road on the Weybridge-Middlebury town line. Built in 1820, it maintains its 19th century charm and appearance despite more recent reconstruction. The wooden walkway to the side creaks and sags slightly under footsteps, and the water runs black and rapid underneath. Upon crossing this bridge, many a lone nighttime jogger claims to have spotted a little girl walking slowly across it, either in front of or behind him/her. She wears a backpack, doesn't speak, and doesn't turn around.

Apparently the image is so frightening, no jogger has yet chosen to approach or talk to the phantom, electing instead to pick up the pace and sprint home to their well-lit dorm room. With so little information, it is hard to draw conclusions, but such mystery only adds to the appeal of the story. There is no mention of any such otherworldly occurrences at the Sheldon Museum in town, but then again, maybe there are some things this quiet village would rather forget…

John Kruchoski '06.5 has never seen the ghost himself, but he did hear about if from two friends. Soon after, he went for a run in the pitch dark and when he arrived at the bridge he "felt really spooked." He picked up the pace and went flat-out as he crossed. Having made it over the bridge without incident, he felt a little foolish and decided if there was a ghost he wasn't going to miss the opportunity to see it in action. He waited around in suspense on the side. However, nothing appeared, and pressed with an urgent need to get to a bathroom, he left disappointed but not entirely unconvinced. "I never thought I'd believe in ghosts, but when you get out there in the dark and you've heard all these stories. Let's just say I'm never going running at night again."

So the next time you find yourself seated around a campfire in the nearby wilderness, slightly bored with the calm of toasting marshmallows and attempting to identify constellations, try sharing the ghost story. You may soon find yourself wondering if the faint rustle in the trees is not just the breeze, and the warmth of the flames may not be enough to keep shivers from running down your spine.